Rosalie's Decision
by huggaholic
Summary: One-shot: ‘Hell’s not so bad when you’ve got an angel with you’ Emmett Cullen.We know that Rosalie was the one to find Emmett, but why exactly did she get him turned, when she was so against being vampirism herself?


One-shot: _'Hell's not so bad when you've got an angel with you' Emmett Cullen._We know that Rosalie was the one to find Emmett, but why exactly did she get him turned, when she was so against being vampirism herself?

Disclaimer: Anything that you recognise does not belong to me. The _Twilight_saga is the work of Stephanie Meyer and no copyright infringement is intended.

RPOV

I went hunting that day to feed. Nothing else. I had not expected anything to be different. I believed my life to be somewhat normal now-well, as normal as it could for a woman who drank blood for her survival.

As I said, I went to hunt. Although I was no longer a newborn vampire, consumed by my thirst, I still struggled more than Edward, Esme and Carlisle. Especially Carlisle. How he managed to stay in the hospital without so much as an idea to drink, I had no idea. Just the thought of the humans that would visit, that would bleed, made the venom pool in my mouth.

Swallowing, I ran deeper into the wilderness, attempting to escape dark thoughts of the deaths I could cause. That I have caused. My memories flickered back to Royce and his friends, grim satisfaction filling my body at the mental image of their bodies falling lifeless at my feet, of them begging for my non-existent mercy. The glorious sound of their heartbeats faltering, speeding, skipping with pure terror. Not that there was anything remotely _pure_ about those men, if they even earned that title. A faded picture of Royce's alcohol-fueled leer filled my mind, and I had to stop my movements to calm my stone heart. I pulled my last memory of him into the fore-front of my mind. His blank, horror-filled eyes staring up at me, his bones snapped at strange angles, some shattered completely. His heart, stilled only when I broke his neck, thudding erratically in his crushed ribcage getting slower and weaker. His pained pleas of mercy as I slowly destroyed him, the sinister smile never leaving my perfect face.

Shaking myself away from those nights, that year, I brought myself to the present. I smelled the air, trying to detect where my next meal was coming from. I caught the scent of a black bear, and bolted towards it, pouncing before it could even register my presence. When there was no blood left inside the animal I pushed it away from me in disgust, longing, once more, that Carlisle had not found me in the street that fateful April night.

As I turned towards the direction of home, a new scent caught by my sensitive nose, and a new sound to my ears. The smell of human blood. Stronger than any meager accident that hikers were prone to, which alone would shatter my fragile self-control. This was a siren call, an intoxicating aroma that left me without any rational thought exept to _get to that elixer. _So, with no second thoughts, I flew towards this scent that intoxicated me so. The sound of the human's heartbeat-stuttering and frantic as it was-became pure music to me as the venom flooded in my mouth.

A small part of me, though, cried out, begging and pleading my conscience to leave this human be. Leave my record clear-refrain from taking another human life. This small part also despised the bleeding human with all its might, hating the fact that I was not, after all, infallible. Guilt for what I was about to do sped through me, but by the time I reached my destination, however, I was entirely focused on my hunt.

After what seemed to me like many hours, when in reality it was only forty-three and a half seconds, I reached the small clearing where my next meal-my first taste of human blood-lay. Every molecule in my body was screaming at me to pounce first, to observe my surroundings later, but I checked anyway-after all, we were not to leave evidence of our hunts. My eyes surveyed the clearing, my ears and nose taking in every sound and smell, and suddenly I no longer wished this human ill.

He lay there, this huge, muscled man, on the bed of the wilderness, his clothes in tatters and soaked in blood. I could tell he was handsome, past the gore and the grimace of agony that his face was contorted in, dimples visible. My attention was held by him unknowingly for an immeasurable moment, then my senses detected something I hadn't paid enough attention to before, overcome as I was with blood lust for the man in front of me.

An enormous black bear, bigger than the one I had drank from earlier, towered over the man, looking as if he was about to strike at him. I didn't think. I just reacted-I pounced on the bear, snapped it's neck and drained the blood before it could even register my movements. Then, I turned back to the man. There was something about him that placed in me a need to protect him, and an image of little Henry, Violet's son, floated through my mind. The curls surrounding Henry's youthful face were not unlike this man's, and I wondered foolishly for a moment if I had been gone for longer and this was Henry, fully grown.

I observed his wounds carefully, holding my breath so I would not be so tempted to end his life. He was in bad shape, and would die soon if no-one intervened. _If no-one intervened..._

That thought started a new debate in my head-should I take him to a hospital? My first thought was a resounding _yes_, but I soon realised that it would be impossible. How would I explain a slender woman's ability to carry a hulking man from the middle of nowhere to the nearest hospital without so much as a bead of sweat? Plus, there was no garuntee that he would make it that far. Which only left me with two options.

One-I leave him here to die alone, with his family unknowing how he had died and his bones not given their final rest. That, to me, was out of the question. This man, whose name I did not even know, whose face held innocence even in intense pain, did not deserve that fate.

Which left me with option two-change him. His family would still be without him, still mourn for his mysterious passing, but he would live on, glorious and unchanging. For once, I did not shudder at the thought of immortality. To me, he was an excellent reason to be around forever.

Making my decision, I picked up the human gentle, attempting to be cautious about his wounds. I would need Carlisle, and I would be grateful towards him for an eternity, as long as this man survived.

_Okay, so, first_ Twilight _fic, and first one-shot. Let me know what you think. Oh, and readers of The New Girl, sorry that there haven't been any updates recently. But I do have an idea that should be up in a couple of weeks._


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